On a broken wing it flutters down
Cold, dismal, and in pain wrought
When wings of hope forever flown.
A quick look, a second thought?
That tiny pause.
To help this bird is such a burden
Why. I don't even know him.

Leathered skin hang loose on bone
From a hand stretched pleadingly
For a hand out, even acceptance alone.
A bother, I wave away impatiently.
Not a pause.
For another one can fill his tin
Cause I don't even know him.

Three times on that day was denied,
The one who healed and promised life.
His own belied, running away terrified.
More than a ear lost at the end of a knife.
A little pause -
Before Peter cried over the din
"Why. I don't even know him".

Arms stretched out, opened with grace
Generous, comforting and warm
To the bird, beggar or thief an embrace
For the repentant, never a deal drawn.
That little pause,
Not once to any, however great their sin
Nor those misused words "I don't know him.

by Dann Thomas

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